A God's Whimper - A Tom Hiddleston as Loki One Shot
by sherekahnsgirl
Summary: A lazy, morning, one-sided, oral adoration. Erotica, Smutty Smut Smut, Loving Dom!Loki, Light D/s, Oral Sex, Bearded!Loki, Fluff, A Bit of Anal


A/N:

NSFW!

Mature Audiences ONLY!

Just something I've had floating around, unfinished, for a while.

Inspired by Amatasera's beautiful artwork of Loki with a beard (see my avatar). Wish it was a better story, though.

Ah well.

Erotica, Smutty Smut Smut, Loving Dom!Loki, Light D/s, Oral Sex, Bearded!Loki, Fluff, A Bit of Anal

A familiar whimper woke her from a sound sleep - from a truly excellent dream in which her lover starred and was giving her a thorough seeing-to, of course.

How she could end up dreaming about sex when she spent so much of her waking time having it she'd never know, but Loki had seeped insidiously into every aspect of her being, in many more ways than just that one.

Another whine followed it, more like a plaintive cry of heartlessly cruel abandonment, and then, when there was no immediate response, there was a determined rattling of metal bars.

Tessa opened one eye, knowing it was a mistake to do so and that it would be all over from there as soon as they made eye contact.

And, of course, she was right.

As soon as the pup had confirmation that she was awake, she began to squirm and writhe and wiggle in anticipation.

Oh, and whine, of course, at a truly ear piercing pitch, just in case the rest of her earnest efforts weren't quite enough to rouse her Mommy.

But when Tessa finally, forcibly jerked herself ruthlessly into an upright position, the true cacophony began as the cats joined in, eager - not so much for her company, but much more for the use of her opposable thumbs in getting cans of cat food opened.

They had their priorities, after all.

As she sat there, rubbing her hand over her face and yawning, trying not to allow herself to fall back to sleep, she felt a warm, firm male hand on her back. Not demanding, not asking for anything, just there.

But there really was no "just there" with him. She knew where that touch - even the most casual of them - led - where it _always_ led with him. He couldn't keep his hands off her, but then, it wasn't as if she was any better around him, either.

It was just the impetus she needed to stand, though, but she heard his own slight, choked off whimper at the loss of contact and a surge of pride washed over her.

It wasn't every woman who could make a God whimper for lack of her presence in his bed.

In _their_ bed.

She slipped a simple cotton nightgown over her head but that was her only concession to the spying they both knew that S.H.I.E.L.D. was doing, feeling they needed to keep an eye on the God of Mischief, and understandably so. And not that she would have gone outside with Punkin nude, even without the concern of prying eyes, although Tessa knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Loki would have heartily encouraged her to do so, purely for his own enjoyment, of course.

He was nothing if not a thoroughly unapologetic hedonist.

Seconds later, leash in hand, slippers warming her feet nicely, she bent down and released the hound.

Well, she wasn't a hound, but close enough for government work.

What she _was_ was a puppynado who wove her way determinedly around and through her mistress' legs, doing her level best to trip her up, or at the very least, garner some sort of attention and acknowledgement of how awful it had been for her, too, that they had been separated for six or so hours.

The horror!

Not wanting to encourage such behavior, Tessa firmly repeated, "No," so many times between her bed and the front door that by the time the pup burst through it, she'd given up. All she asked by then was that the dog did what all she needed to and let her mistress get back to bed, to more, much needed, sleep.

First thing in the morning, Punkin was usually pretty good. She needed to _go_ , and got right down to business rather than indulging in the touristing she might later in the day, sniffing here and there as if herds of dogs used a yard that she had damned well better be the only one that peed in it. Ever grateful, she did her business to lavish praise from Tessa, who was practically asleep on her feet as she stood there, holding the end of the retractable leash and keeping one eye on the recalcitrant pup to make sure she actually _did do_ what she needed to. Too often she'd brought Punkin back in only to have her deposit a generous present - or two - _inside_ the house.

But not this morning, thankfully. She completed her assignments in record time, then trotted to the door, where Tess scooped her up and hauled her inside, locking the door behind them, unhooking the leash, then tucking her back into the crate that resided in their room, hoping to grab at least another hour or so of shut eye before the cats began to dance more determinedly around her head, demanding breakfast.

Being Loki's lover was wonderful and amazing and many other extravagant adjectives, and she was quite certain that he had ruined her for other men. Who could possibly measure up after having been loved by a God? Not that she'd let him know that she thought that - although she had already come to the conclusion that it was going to kill her . . . but then, if she was going to have to go, she would much prefer it be with his strong body above hers, making certain she knew she was his in the most elemental of ways. She could think of much worse ways to go than while her body clenching helplessly around his . . .

Tess dropped onto her back on her side of the bed, legs bent as she ran her hands over her thighs, trying to warm them. But she didn't remain there very long.

She hadn't paid any attention to where he had gotten to. He required much less sleep than she did, and he was often up prowling into the early morning, only really falling asleep not long before the dog began to drag her tin cup against the bars of her pink wire crate.

Tessa should have known better than to be that cavalier about Loki's whereabouts, for just as she was about to straighten out her legs and roll onto her side to try to pick up her dream where she'd left off, she found strong fingers wrapping themselves around her slim hips and upper thighs, pulling her inexorably towards the end of the bed.

He did it so quickly that, quite literally, one second she was noticing that she was moving and not of her own accord, the nightie she'd donned before going out dissolving off of her body as if it had never been as, in the next second, she found the tenderest of her lady bits latched onto by his eager mouth, that warm, wet tongue encompassing every molecule of a clit that had still not really yet recovered from his avid attentions of the previous evening, leaving it even more ultra-sensitive than it usually was, feeling - particularly starkly this morning for some reason - the way the hairs of his beard prickled against her tender, ultra-sensitive flesh.

But then she didn't think she'd _ever_ really recover from what this man - what this _God_ , she corrected in her mind to the tune of his chiding voice - did to her, each and every time.

He couldn't read her mind, she didn't think. He'd as much as told her he couldn't, although she wasn't really sure she believed him. But then, considering some of the vicious things she'd thought about him, especially in the beginning, if he could have read them she'd probably already be long since dead.

So perhaps not.

But he had some sort of . . . inexplicable sensitivity towards her that no other lover had ever had. He seemed to know what she wanted before she did, and, no matter how kinky, or how embarrassing, he'd never once hesitated to do it, or ever made any move or said anything negative about any of it.

And she could get plenty kinky.

And she knew, because he'd said it to her many times, that he liked that about her.

Her arms made their way above her head, guided and held there by nothing she could discern, her legs brought up and spread wide the same way, and no amount of trying to contort her body could budge them even slightly, while his hands remained free to eagerly claim the parts of her that were so blatantly exposed to him.

He took his time this time - she never knew whether he would practically attack her, throwing her down on the bed or pressing her up against the nearest wall, or over the back of the sofa, taking her hard and quick and occasionally, purely for his own pleasure, using her as if she was merely a possession that existed for that purpose alone rather than the women he purported to love.

Although he also knew enough about her to be quite certain that, in taking her that way - roughly, selfishly - he was pressing one of her own buttons, fulfilling one of the desires she had been quite reluctant to admit to him. He hadn't yet pinned her down as to whether she had demurred because she worried that he might injure her accidentally or because she was a self-confessed control freak who hated to own up to the fact that she adored being overpowered by him.

Other times, like now, he licked and lapped at her, groaning at each and every taste of her, teasing and torturing her, luxuriating in every single aspect of her - and ruthlessly dragging not just his lips and tongue slowly over every single embarrassingly exposed bit of her, but making sure that his beard - which could be surprisingly smooth against other areas of her person - rasped over certain parts of her delicacies in particular. He pretty much rested his chin on her clit, moving it slowly, deliberately at first in the way he knew she liked, hastening the movements of his at the same time rough and smooth beard quite deliberately in order to drive her into a carefully controlled frenzy.

He knew exactly what she liked, and seemed to be in a mood to indulge her, pressing first one, then a second finger up inside her gently, at first. He had often marveled at the fact that she was tight as a virgin, her body closing immediately around him, clutching at him as he twisted his fingers into her to the hilt while his mouth ravaged her clit for what seemed like hours, hands roaming up, over her tummy to capture turgid nipples that hungered for his less than gentle caresses, craving to be pinched and tugged and rolled hard, forcing cries of that powerful mix of desire and discomfort from the back of her throat.

Despite how much time he was taking, how much she groaned, how her head rolled violently back and forth and her hips rose - as much as he would allow - to meet fingers that were now plunging into her with great - yet well controlled - strength, Tessa wasn't at all sure she could give him what she knew he wanted from her.

Perhaps this time it just wasn't going to be there.

At least, not fast enough to satisfy her.

"Loki - Loki - I - I'm not sure - I d-don't think I can -"

He disengaged his mouth from her now not so little bud with severe reluctance, his gaze traveling slowly up her still writhing body to her face. "Look at me, Tessa-mine." He always accented the "mine" part of that nickname, making her shudder every time.

She didn't want to, but she obeyed him immediately, knowing he wouldn't hesitate to punish her if she didn't, opening hazel eyes that collided with stark blue ones that held hers like a physical touch, trying not to notice how his lips and goatee glistened in the rising sunlight, dripping with her honey.

"I know I have said this before, but I shall say it again, as many times as I need to, until you fully understand - and accept as fact - what I am saying. I want you to relax. There is no timetable in my head, my Princess. I am not a physically weak Midgardian male. There is little I would like better than to dedicate entire years - decades - of my life to lying right here between these beautiful legs of yours, loving you like this. My tongue will never tire, my jaw will never ache, and I will _never_ leave you unfulfilled. I crave the sight and sounds of you as you try to come to grips with the pleasure I bring you more than anything I have ever encountered."

He added in a lower range that sizzled along her nerve endings, "And we will _both_ be well-sated before I am done, because your pleasure is as satisfying to me as is my own."

With that her hands began to move down - at his silent behest - until he could entwine their fingers, holding them immobile by her hips. "Close your eyes, my love, and let yourself go within the sure safety of my arms. I shall bring you to heights from which you may never recover."

He could feel her body contract sharply once at his words and smiled as he pressed his mouth to her again, letting her feel his teeth against that most delicate morsel, dragging them slowly over that spot while he chuckled evilly and she actively fought him as best she could.

To no avail, of course.

Because his hands were now occupied - he knew how she preferred to feel that he was holding her physically captive himself, as opposed to being bound by his magic - holding her still for his loving - he employed a spell that created a presence that mimicked himself within her quim that kept her full and heavily filled, that rasped against her G-spot with every move, stretching her open and approximating his own thrusts, so that it was as if he was fucking her and mouthing her at the same time, so enjoying the way her breath caught at his trick that he couldn't resist the urge to grind his hips against the end of the bed.

He _wanted_ her.

He wanted her like no other female he'd ever met, and even after he'd shouted his triumphant pleasure to the universe, while he was still at home, seated deeply within her, he still wanted her. She was his drug - his obsession - his addiction.

His love.

He never thought he'd find this - and he certainly realized that he didn't deserve it.

But at the same time, he refused to question his luck too closely, lest it vanish.

He had her. Here and now. And he partook of her so often that he had seen her wince once when he entered her - withdrawing immediately, filled with the achingly unfamiliar feeling of remorse and holding her close with tears in his eyes at the thought of having hurt her unintentionally.

But she had reassured him that she was fine and that she was at least as ravenous for him, proving herself to be so as she had descended on him to take him to Valhalla with her mouth instead.

This time, though, was purely for her.

No more changing rhythms to tease her, no more lapping lazily over her or dragging bristly beard over her then soothing the same tortured spots seconds later. He suckled that little bean as far into his mouth as he could, leaving it exposed to a tongue that he began to drag over it mercilessly, and he knew he was on the right track when she offered herself up even further to him and began to chant against the inevitable end that he would never let her avoid.

"No - Loki - noooo!"

He answered in a manner no man ever could, his deep voice reverberating within her very body, and from inside her head, somehow.

" _Yes_ , Tessa."

Her hands fought against his hold but he easily subdued them, cuffing his fingers around her wrists, his big hands totally dwarfing hers as she made as if she was going to move out from beneath him but he held her in such complete control that it just looked like more of the avid writhing she'd already been doing.

He knew the truth, though - that sometimes - usually when she had the hardest time getting there - the extent of the feelings he could conjure within her, all of that stimulation - became overwhelming to her.

But he would never relent, slowly increasing the rhythm of his tongue and lips against her, his eyes rapt on her face, drinking in every single morsel of her responses to him as if they were food and he a starving man.

"No - no - please - " her plea was weak and thready and he knew that, despite her concerns, she was very close.

"Yes. Obey me. You must surrender yourself to me - your will to mine. To your _God_. I _will_ see you dissolve into ecstasy. I will _take_ it from you, if necessary -"

The smooth fucker knew _exactly_ what to do - and say - to her.

One second she was tense as a coiled spring, the next she was literally howling, bucking beneath him, body arched as the promised - threatened - ecstasy rolled through her in soul-shattering waves that didn't seem to diminish at all as they usually did, but then he was still there, at her cleft, still eagerly lapping her up, listening to it building quickly within her again until she screamed a second time, and then it seemed to die down within her - some, although she continued to moan and whimper, her hips rolling up, eyes closed, head moving back and forth, her body still deep in the throes of what he'd wrought within her.

Loki adored how loud she was - each sigh, each groan, each unfettered scream was a gift to him and very nearly as potent as her mouth on him, although it had taken him a long time to get her to realize and accept just how much he enjoyed hearing her, and disabusing her of her unnatural tendency to try to stifle her responses to him. The sound of her like this was very nearly his undoing. He had to fight against the urge to defile himself against the mattress rather than buried deep within her, where he belonged.

Tessa was embarrassed at how loudly she always came with him, yet, at the same time, she could no longer control that reaction, either. He'd seen to that early on in their relationship. He'd completely stripped her of the ability to suppress it - made it damned close to too fucking good for her to bear, and definitely too amazing to keep her mouth shut about.

If S.H.I.E.L.D. had this place bugged, they were definitely getting an earful.

She lay there, helplessly panting and subjected to her own body's will that this not end just yet, her lower half still contracting as tremendous swells of pleasure continued to break over her. And she knew he was watching her avidly, his mouth slightly parted, panting, even though she'd not touched him and he was no longer touching her intimately, although his position was still quite so.

As much as he wanted to, he refused to accede to his body's demands to take her - and take her _hard_ , to drive himself into her without thought or care for what she wanted in the least - and instead simply reveled in the awesome satisfaction that was her complete enjoyment of the pleasure he had brought to her, as hers had long since become his own. He often denied himself often in favor of bringing her a better experience. She was always breathtakingly beautiful to him, but even more so when caught in the grip of Paradise, as she was. He was always beyond pleased when she surrendered herself to him and ceded control of her body to him and thus her more sensual side.

Loki glided them up to their pillows, holding her on her side as she continued to contact strongly - he could feel her body tightening within the confines of his arms, and her alternating moans and whimpers were dead giveaways. She was lost so deeply to what was happening within that he was able to arrange her to his own satisfaction as if she was a rag doll, keeping her on her side facing him and insinuating his thick thigh between hers, snugging it up tight against her dewy crevice, leaving her no choice but to ride it as her hips still rocked rhythmically back and forth, knowing this, too, would heighten her experience.

He had - willingly, eagerly - become something of an expert at knowing what she liked, and he always tried for subtle situational cues and clues that made everything . . . more for her.

But as he drew her into his arms, he saw that his love was panting and grasping at him, looking almost afraid. "L - Loki, I - "

He bestowed soothing kisses on her cheeks and eyelids. "Shhh, beloved," his voice as soothingly hypnotic as he could make it without actually casing a spell over her, which he did not want to do. "You know you are not allowed to stifle these feelings. Embrace them as I embrace you. You know you are completely safe with me, and that I want this for you. You must always experience every bit of pleasure you can."

Knowing that what she was going through was a true marriage of mind and body - he wasn't touching her overtly anywhere, really, except his leg between hers - Loki let a big hand cup the back of her head - his fingers embraced by the multitude of curls there that wrapped themselves around him - his other hand conforming to the ripe curve of her bottom softly but firmly, in order to demonstrate to her, in an exquisitely understated manner - consciously and unconsciously - that her submission to him - in this and everything else - was voluntary only because he allowed her to think of it as being so, reminding her subtly that he could choose to enforce it at any time.

His deep, hot fudge voice rumbled into the ear that lay on his sternum, but it also seemed to seep into her from every pore she owned, too. "You know that you are mine, and that I treasure you more than anyone I have ever known in my life, but do you yet realize that I would have you like this regardless - that I would _take_ what is _mine_ , whether you wanted me to or not? And that I could make you enjoy it just as much as you do now, while I allow you to think that you have a modicum of control over what I do to you?"

Sometimes Tessa got a flash of just how dangerous Loki could be to her - and this was one of those times. He knew exactly what to say and how to say it to her to compliment what was already going on in a body that was running sexually rampant as she continued to experience orgasms - or one long one, perhaps - at her body's - and, if she was completely honest with herself - _his_ will. She again tried to escape, but he held her fast, but not so much that he suppressed the very sensuous actions of her hips as she canted them helplessly while he deliberately rubbed the top of his thigh slowly up against that enchanting spot of hers, feeling himself grow harder with every sigh, every mewl that escaped those beautiful lips.

He continued, almost crooning, "That I would _make_ you love it - love me - and not by any magicks, but by seducing your body and tantalizing your mind again and again until you surrendered yourself to me willingly - until you enslaved yourself to me by your own words and deeds, with your whole heart, until you gifted me with your complete and utter surrender."

He kept her there - riding the edge of the sometimes gentle, sometimes violent torrents of orgasms that swept through her - sometimes talking to her, sometimes kissing her, and at one point even sliding her hips a bit away from him, down his thigh, leaving a slickly wet trail even as he backed her bottom onto his rigidly held thumb.

In anticipation of the fuss he knew she was going to put up - as she always did - he drew his arms tighter around her, moving with her body as she flexed her hips away from the invader, but then inevitably had to move them back, impaling herself in a manner that she was fiercely reluctant to admit brought her to even greater heights as he maneuvered three long fingers into her gushing cunt, very nearly losing control of himself completely at the throaty groan she emitted as he ruthlessly stretched her.

As she was filled with him, front and back, Loki forced her to peak after peak, all of them stronger and louder than those that had preceded them - and he couldn't conceal the self-satisfied smile that spread over his face.

When she began to show signs of exhaustion - although her hips continued to flex and he knew she was still contracting, he removed himself from her body and magically cleaned the both of them, then turned her in his arms and whispered into her ear.

"You are tired, beloved. Rest. I will watch over you and see to the ungrateful creatures' needs."

If she hadn't been half dead, she might have laughed at his characterizations of their pets, but she couldn't summon a smile if her life depended on it, and, as much as she didn't like making him think that he could simply tell her to do something and she'd just blindly obey, she was asleep long before he left their bed to attend to the animals.


End file.
